


Static Loop

by Self_Deprecating_Narcissist



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Bottom Craig, FUCKING FINALLY WRITING THIS, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Kenny dies over and over, M/M, Top Kenny McCormick, good big brother kenny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 03:45:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18024050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Self_Deprecating_Narcissist/pseuds/Self_Deprecating_Narcissist
Summary: Kenny dies. Every. Damn. Day. Even after 20 years he still isn't used to it. It's always painful and traumatizing for those around him. But they can forget about it, it's just how it works. Kenny's the only one who remembers every fucking moment of it. So that's how he lives (dies? Whatever). Wake up, work, die.But 20 years is a long fucking time, maybe it's time to allow someone else to share the burden of this knowledge. Craig Tucker listens for some reason, and suddenly, life is a little bit less shitty.





	1. Chapter 1

The worst part is the waiting. What’s it gonna be? Robbery gone wrong? Construction accident? Or will they walk right up to me, shove the barrel of the gun to my forehead, and laugh as they blow my brains out? Because every day I wake up, a clock starts ticking down. Every 24 hours I have to die, but what people don’t realize is that a day is a very long time to stay constantly alert and on your guard. Is this it? This red car pulling up? Will it swerve and run me over, crushing my bones with it’s weight? Or maybe it’s something in the water? Something undetected until they find me, choking up waves of vomit as my body desperately tries to live.  
Either way, it sucks. I can’t deny that there are some days where I’m the one who kills me. I’ll swing my legs off the mattress, reach into the cardboard box and pull out my dad’s old gun. It doesn’t hurt as much if I’m the one to do it, but my little sister, Karen, is always the one to find me. I’m usually on the edge of death, consciousness bleeding from the hole in my brain when she’ll pad into view, the ancient floorboards groaning with each step, and then I’ll watch as the complete horror registers on her young face as she starts to scream.  
No one’s coming. We both know that and yet, death is such a terrifying force that it shuts down the brain, only allowing the most primitive of thoughts and sounds.   
Sometimes it’s a nice reminder that there’s someone who actually cares if I’m dead, even though she won’t remember it tomorrow. No one ever does. It could happen on live TV at the White House and they would all wake up the next day as if nothing had happened. Everyone moves on except for me.   
I sigh, shouldering the ratty backpack as I head out for the day. Karen’s over at the Tucker’s house, probably playing with Tricia. It’s just as well, I have two different jobs to work and won’t be home until ten. I rake a hand through my blonde curls and sigh in frustration. Seven dollars an hour isn’t nearly enough to provide for both Karen and me, but Mr. Kim’s been good to me over the years and besides, there aren’t many alternatives to his shitty chicken at City Wok. Karen’s offered to find a job, but there’s no way in Hell I’m letting my twelve-year-old sister worry about our financial issues. I glance at my feet, noting that I’ve worn a hole clean through the front of my ratty sneakers, this is the type of shit that kids would pick on me for back in 4th grade, calling me the trash man and stuffing me into the dumpsters behind the school. Thankfully, it didn’t last long. I hit a growth spurt and learned how to lay on the charm, simultaneously warding off bullies and reeling in the chicks. After that I was the suave, sexy Kenny McCormick, the handsome playboy who’s tough and just a little dangerous. I kept that image up, smirking and snarking during the day and then getting the shit kicked out of me the second I came home.   
“Fucking useless faggot!” Dad would be a snarling mess, the alcohol making it so more of his punches missed than landed. It was fine. It was always. Fine. No matter what, drinking always makes people mean. Sometimes he’d pull out his knife, how the hell he thought he would cover up a stabbing, I have no idea. But Dad relied a lot on the fact that no one gave a shit, they saw what they wanted to see. He’d stagger off somewhere about an hour in, and I’d pull myself up off of the splinter-filled floorboards and patch myself up. I’d sit in the bathroom, staring in the busted mirror as I’d sew up a busted cheek, counting the stitches to take away the burn. That’s all it took, good as new, I’d swagger up to school the next day with a long story about a back-alley fight and they’d all believe it. They’d just shake their heads and say, “damn, that Kenny is crazy.”  
I push open the door, pulling on my City Wok apron as I do so. Mr. Kim is shouting at a customer so I slip into the back, switching on the fryer as I start preparing the chicken. I’m whistling as I chop the leeks, keeping rhythm with each swipe of the blade. It’s an eight hour shift, adding up to $48 in total. Maybe I can ask Mr. Kim for a raise, I’ve been working here for a few years after all. I’m jerked out of my thoughts by someone grabbing my shoulders  
“Quick! The shitty Mongolians are here!” Mr. Kim begins to shove me out of the kitchen. “You’re on order duty. Those fucking assholes!” At this point I’m used to this weird long-lived rivalry between City Wok and the South Park Mongolians. I’ve heard the story a thousand times and still have no idea what the whole feuds about. One way or another Mr. Kim will get derailed and start diverging into a random stream of thought, usually about cars. I shake my head and step up to the counter, clearing my throat as I greet the customer.   
It goes fine, the Mongolian guy getting his order to go and he leaves in a few minutes, but Mr. Kim refuses to come back out, muttering something about a sneak attack. So, I’m on register duty. Fine by me, at least this position uses my pretty face. An older woman blushes as I smile at her, saying “we’ll have that right out, Ma’am.” She giggles quietly, cheeks still faintly red as she sits down again. I diligently ring people up, always making sure to maintain a smile while I count down the hours to the end of my shift.  
“McCormick?” A shocked voice breaks through my thoughts. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I jerk back a bit, caught off guard at the sudden recognition but quickly smooth my face over once more with a douchey smile.   
“Craig Tucker, long time no see.” I lean forward on the counter, pushing into his personal space and immediately forcing him to step back. I haven’t seen him in quite a bit, not that that really means anything. It’s not like we hung out or anything, mainly because we were basically apart of rival friend groups. Craig was always on the fringe of Kyle’s posse, the quiet kid who was a complete asshole when he did decide to grace us with words. He’s gone to more detentions than any other kid I know, once for memorably flipping Mr. Mackey off before walking out of the school. Everything about Craig is sharp, the pale skin and black hair with bright blue eyes and sharp cheekbones accompanied by an even sharper tongue. “Damn, haven’t you grown up.” I let out a laugh, letting my eyes drag lecherously over him.   
Craig instinctively takes a step back before he can help himself. “Fuck off, McCormick. Just get me the shitty chicken and a soda.”   
“Sure thing, handsome.” I toss a wink over my shoulder as I duck into the kitchen. Craig growls something else, most likely an insult aimed at my mother, but I ignore it quickly listing off his order to Mr. Kim. Craig’s got his arms crossed tight across his chest as I ring him up. Damn, he’s gotten tall. He’s got a foot on me now, but that wouldn’t stop me from topping the shit out of him. He’s nervous and awkward and if it weren’t for the line behind him I’d grab him by the elbow and suck a hickey onto his wrist. That’s actually pretty fucking hot and as if he knows what I’m thinking, his face fills with heat. God, and with that pale skin he’d mark pretty easily. I lick my lips, watching as his eyes follow the motion.   
And that’s when everything goes wrong. A weight slams into my back, cracking my chin against the counter as I go down. My vision’s fuzzy and my jaws aching and I hear a girl screaming behind me.   
“You fucking left me! You fucking whore, you left me!” I barely have time to register that it’s Kelly, my most recent ex, before she shoves the knife through my spine. She yanks it out and continues to stab, over and over. There’s screaming and my eyesight is fading but I look up to see Craig, standing over my soon-to-be-dead body as my crazy-ass ex stabs me to death. Among the chaos, he looks almost at peace, but that’s what shock’ll do to you. My vision whites out as I let go.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously guys, I'm such a slut for comments. \^*^/

Today’s been a total shitshow. Mr. Slave’s had me running orders from dawn ‘till five, the whole fucking day spent running back and forth across town toting Slave’s questionable products. Seriously, the man doesn’t even try to hide the fact that they’re sex toys. On top of that it hit 80 degrees, so here I am working my ass off in a pair of itchy-ass khakis and a bright pink polo with neon green embroidery, because Slave thinks he’ll sell more if everything’s the color of an 80’s acid trip.   
I alternate between ‘Ew! Fuck I did not need to know that about Eric’s mom!’ and ‘Oh, sweet Jesus, even I didn’t know they made that! And that’s fucking saying something’. Technically, it could have gone worse. Most of the customers were purely professional about it, both of us staring straight ahead as we finished the transaction, but there were one or two people who tried to talk me up. Seriously, some fuckers can’t tell the difference between porn and reality. On the plus side, only one ass groping, that’s two less than Monday.   
I’m sweating through the fucking polo as I return to Slave, dropping the signed receipts on his coffee table in front of him.  
“Wow, hon!” Slave snatches up the papers, giving them a quick scan. “You did great! I knew that juicy ass could do it!”  
I’m too tired to reply. I just kind of half-nod, taking his praise as permission to go. Karen’ll be home in an hour, I need to figure out something for dinner. That kraft Mac n’ cheese? Do we have any of it left? I can’t remember. I rub at the bridge of my nose, what a fucking life. The suns starting to set, and to anyone else, I’m sure it would be beautiful but to me it means my time is ticking. In the next eight hours I have to sew a patch in Karen’s jeans, scrounge up something for dinner, and die.  
My back pocket buzzes as the ancient flip phone rings. Now what? I pull it out, flipping it open and calling out a tired ‘hello?’   
“Kenny, I’m staying over with Tricia tonight! Her mom said it’s fine since we have a project due tomorrow.” Karen’s voice sparkles with energy, instantly lightning my heart.  
“That’s great Kare, I’ll pick you up after school then.” I lean against the fence, smile slipping onto my face. “Tell her mom I say thank you.”  
“I will! Love you, bye!”  
I find myself grinning as I hang up. It’s things like that that make this hell hole worth it. Well, that and sex, but come on. Now that I have time to kill, I find myself at a bit of a loss. Do I just go home and wait to die? Or would it be better if I just threw myself in front of a car? I begin to walk, hands sinking into the worn back pockets of my jeans as I lose myself in thought. On the plus side, doing it now means that I’ll save Karen the trauma of watching it, even if it’s only temporary. On the other hand, I rarely have time like this to myself. It’d be a shame to waste it.  
I’m not paying attention to where I’m going, but my feet have wound up taking me to my old stomping ground: Stark’s Pond. I like this place, not only is it peaceful and actually pretty, I’ve only ever died here once which is pretty good. I look up at the sun as it drowns in the crimson horizon, finally sinking behind the trees a little bit later.  
I just stand there, long after the light’s gone from the forest. These are the times that I like to play pretend. Pretend that I’m not gonna die, pretend that Karen has a chance at a happy life, pretend that any of this means anything. Finally I turn, trodding down the well-beaten path and almost make it back to town when I hear Ned’s nasally voice shouting, “Get it! Shoot the buck!” and I turn as a deer bounds by me, dodging the bullet by sheer luck. I however am stuck with the backlash.   
The little bullet rips through my throat, piercing my windpipe and filling it with blood. No matter how many times this happens I can never get used to the terrible sensation of drowning in your own body. Jimbo’s shouting, leaning over me and telling me to stay with him as Ned frantically yells at the 911 operator. I give them a wan smile and do my best to relax, nothings worse than being afraid while you’re dying. It’ll all be over soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comments & kudos kick my butt into gear ^.^/

Mr. Kim let me go early today, and that’s fine but that brings down the income. I step into the bath, standing under where the shower head used to be. It just disappeared a few years ago, no one knew what had happened to it and we didn’t have the money to spare for a new one so we just left it. Personally I think Dad had one of his episodes and pulled something, after all, that was the same day we found that something had taken a chunk out of the sink. I begin to wash myself, methodically scrubbing down my body in an attempt to get the fucking smell of chicken out of my skin. In a few minutes I need to get out and swing by Tricia’s house and pick up Karen, I actually remembered to go shopping today and I picked up some chicken nuggets which are a double win in this house as they are both Karen’s favorite food and extremely cheap. I can heat them up quickly before swinging over to fill in at Raisens at the register. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind working there full time what with the hot serving girls and the decent pay, it’s basically a dream come true. But they’re full on staff and would only let a guy run the bar and I’m only twenty.   
I rinse off quickly, cleaning cut short by the water temperature turning cold and getting colder by the second. Padding from the bathroom, I snatch my blanket off my bed, quickly drying myself before pulling on clothes. I have to remember to grab more soap tomorrow, there’s a half-off sale on the kind Karen likes. I shrug on my coat, pulling the puffy jacket closer to ward off the nights chill. I’ve always hated that: how hot it can be during the day and then it’ll drop below freezing the second the sun goes down. I’m really thankful that Tricia Tucker only lives a few minutes away, but right now I’m just focusing on conserving body heat and this walk is not helping.  
I break into a quick jog as the house comes into sight, surrounded by other nice houses that look just like it. I’ve always hated this part, the part where the people who live in these nice little houses will peek out the window and catch sight of a rag-tag kid running down the street, so they’ll yank their curtains shut and lock the doors and tell their children to stay inside. It always happens, and if I’m being honest, I can’t say that I blame them.  
Trotting up to the doorstep I rap my knuckles against the wood. “Karen, time to go!”  
To my surprise, the door opens almost immediately to reveal a very irritated-looking Craig Tucker. And suddenly the stupid cold is worth it. I grin widely, leaning forward with my hands pushed into my pockets. “Well, well, well if it’s not the stud muffin himself.”   
To his credit, Craig recovers quickly from the surprise and manages to reply somewhat normally. “You’re sister’s coming, Tricia’s being a bitch about something.”  
By his exasperated tone, I had a feeling that the ‘something’ involved Craig. I was surprised when he leaned against the doorway, making himself comfortable. I was honestly expectantly him to run the second his mandatory message was given. But this, I grin, this will be much more fun.  
“So, Craig…” I let him watch as I drag my eyes over his body. “Since the sisters are busy, how about you and me have some boy-to-boy bonding?”   
Craig shifts his weight but doesn’t back away, “Not even gonna buy me dinner first, McCormick? What kind of girl do you think I am?”  
This startles a laugh from me, an actual laugh that bubbles from my chest out of my mouth. God, it’s been a fucking while. And now he’s looking at me from where his hair hides his eyes and I can see a small smile creeping along and jesus, that’s cute.  
“And I’m sure you want a promise ring, too?” I can feel my face becoming softer, more gentle and sincere.   
“Well, how are the girls at the golf club gonna believe me otherwise?” His hand comes up to brush back his fringe, the tips of his ears red.   
“Of course, baby.” I watch in delight as he shivers and take it as my cue to take another step forward. “Anything to get ahold of this hot ass.” Craig doesn’t react as I reach around to his back pockets, I like the way he’s staring at me, it’s almost defiant.   
The moment is shattered by loud thumps as Tricia and Karen run down the stairs. Tricia’s eyes zero in on my hand which is still settled on Craig’s ass.  
“Ew, Craig! What the hell? I’m telling mom!” Tricia seems like she’s on the verge of throwing a fit, so I quickly catch Karen by the wrist and bid them a hasty goodbye. Now it’s really cold so Karen and I are gonna have to run home. We jump the porch steps and set off at a jog.  
“Wait, Karen!” I turn my head to see Craig, hanging out the doorway with Karen’s backpack in his hand. “You forgot this!” Wait, why am I smelling gas?  
“Oh, thanks!” Karen runs back over to Craig, and I’m thankful for that because it put her just outside of the radius when the house next to me explodes.   
It’s not the actual explosion that kills me this time, I’ve been in enough situations like this to know that if it’s not directly because of the gas, it’s the fucking rubble. I got nailed by something pretty big because my visions dipping and bloods flowing freely down my face. Karen’s shouting my name, voice raising with each unanswered call. I start to talk, start to tell her not to worry but that’s when I realize I can’t feel most of my face, I don’t even know if my mouth’s open or shut. Great, most likely a brain bleed, in that case, it’ll be over in a few moments. Craig’s grabbed Karen, pulling her into his arms as she sobs. He does what I cannot and rubs circles into her back while whispering words of comfort, and for that I am grateful.


	4. Chapter 4

Karen crawled into bed with me last night, arms wrapping around my chest as she sobbed. She tried for a bit to tell me what was wrong, but eventually gave up as her shaky cries wrought her frail body. We lay there; me, smoothing her hair back to soothe her shivers, her, soaking my T-shirt with her tears. Now that she’s older, this doesn’t happen as often as it used to. After every beating I took she’d appear in my doorway, ratty blanket clenched between white knuckles and her thumb stuffed in her mouth. She’d silently curl up next to me, mindful of any sore spots and that was how we fell asleep almost every night.  
“This is so stupid.” Karen sniffles, “I’m supposed to be an adult now, and I’m still having nightmares.” She sits up suddenly, wiping at her face with her hands.  
“Kare, It’s not dumb.” I prop myself up on my elbow, studying my sister in the faint light. “These things happen. Besides, you’re fourteen, you’re still just a kid.”  
“That’s when you became an adult!” she snaps suddenly, brown eyes crackling as they pin me in place. “That’s when you started working, and you were even younger when you started protecting me from dad-!” her voice breaks and with it goes the sudden burst of energy. I hold my arms out and she crumples forward, fingers digging into my shirt as she buries her face in the crook of my neck. “I just… I just want to not be useless anymore.”  
I don’t want to tell her that I never stopped.

It’s hours later, but Karen’s finally asleep. She's curled on her side, breathing easily as she sucks her thumb, a habit she swears up and down she’s outgrown. I smile fondly and brush a hand over her hair before carefully standing and throwing on some clothes. It’s sometime in the early morning, and the chill of the mist brings a welcome alertness to my thoughts. I allow my thoughts to wander as I walk, taking the path to Stark’s Pond without thinking. The forest is beautiful in the morning, almost completely silent, letting me to pretend I’m the only person left in the world. I have to head over to Mr. Kim’s in an hour or so, but for now I’m content to just exist.   
I pull back a branch that hangs too low and step into the clearing. To my surprise there appears to be someone already there, perched on a rock that rises up from the muddy waters. I turn to go, not up for dealing with anyone this early when they call out to me.  
“Who the fuck is that?” It’s armed with an edge of menace, a warning to get as far away as possible. The figure stands, unfolding themselves from their seat and moving swiftly closer. “Who-?”  
Craig’s flashlight catches me in its beams, sharply silhouetting me against the dark forest. “McCormick? Fuck, you scared me.” Craig shakes his head, posture relaxing. “What the hell are you doing here?”  
“I could ask you the same question,” I move past him, pulling myself up onto the rock.   
Craig frowns but doesn’t answer, he just climbs up beside me and pulls a cigarette from his pocket. I watch from the corner of my eye as he lights it, the spark wheel catching on his second try. He’s got that old hat on, the blue and yellow chollo one that he never took off in middle school and I can see he’s kept the nervous habit of fiddling with the strings. It’s quiet aside from the buzz of the forest around us. I let him get in two more drags of the cigarette before I bug him again.  
“Really though, why are you out here?”   
Craig glares at me, eyes narrowing as his face sours. He turns away again, sitting forward with his arms curled around his knees. I’m not really expecting a response, at least not a productive one, and I mean, who am I to deserve one? I’m just the douchey poor kid who flirts with everything that walks and has his deflectors set to high. I lean back, resting my weight on my elbows as I breathe in the cool air. I can feel Craig relax once more, realizing that I’m not gonna push him on this. He holds out the half-smoked cigarette and I take it as the peace offering it is.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what y'all think :)

No one found me last night. It was hours before I finally died, I lay there, covered in mud and my own blood as my organs slowly shut down. My chest was crushed, ribs puncturing my insides, forcing blood up and out of my mouth. The rain continued it’s unrelenting force, soaking my broken body, slowly covering me with earth. I kept thinking, I hope Karen got home safe. She was planning to ride her bike down to the corner store today, I hope she was smart enough to stay put and let this stupid storm wear itself out. The mud advanced on me slowly, it’s collective weight crushing my body as it covered it’s tracks. Honestly, I thought it was going to be the lightning that killed me. It’s happened before, and it’s not a terrible way to go. Probably rate it a 7/10 on the pleasant death scale. You don’t even know it’s happening, your brain shuts out everything except for the burning and the taste of copper on your tongue.   
I was watching the sky, waiting for my stupid body to finally give in and accept it’s fate. Even when I’m more than halfway gone, with my lungs choking on my own blood and vile, some stupid fucking primal part of me fights to live. It thrashes with all of it’s might, desperately reaching towards a hope that can never come true. I couldn’t see out of one of my eyes, but somehow I knew that once the storm clouds cleared, it was going to be a beautiful night.   
One of those nights you see every century or so, where the air is crisp and cool and the sky swathes the background like a blanket of pure black, speckled with the constellations those before us made.   
If I had been home, I would have taken Karen out to our backyard that’s really more dirt and broken beer bottles than grass, and laid out my blanket for us. I could help her pick them out, connect the stars one by one and show her the images they made. My chest is tight as more mud slides down, a quiet sob escapes my throat, choked into a gurgle by the blood filling my airway. Karen would have liked that, she would have really liked that.  
……  
I wake up in the same, awful way as usual; shooting upright in my bed, hands clawing at my chest looking for the crushing weight that had been slowly killing me. It always takes me a while to convince my brain that I’m not dying, to slow my heaving breaths that rip through my body and slick the sweat-soaked curls back from my face. No doubt the landslide will be in the paper today, but there won’t be the added part of a local resident’s death. I allow myself a few more moments to stop shaking, gripping my ratty blanket between my white knuckles. I have to get up, need to make sure that there’s breakfast for Karen, need to get to City Wok so there can be breakfast for Karen tomorrow.   
Taking one last shuddering breath, I swing my legs off of the mattress and search for my sneakers. The floor’s way too fucked up to walk on barefoot. I learned that the hard way, stubbornly going through several years with splinters and a possible tetanus infection before finally giving in and wearing shoes permanently. As I pad into the one real room of our shack, I realize how quiet it is. Years of bad experiences lurch to the front of my mind as I slow, immediately shifting onto the balls of my feet and searching for some form of weapon. Karen’s shit is scattered about, including her worn backpack. I reach into the outer pocket, flicking open the pocket knife with a deft schick. I continue to creep forward, peering carefully around the corner. The last time it was this quiet, a homeless meth-head had broken in. The time before that it was a group of guys who I’d cheated in poker; that time I had died, baseball bat to the head. Took five swings before my stupid body gave up the ghost.  
I scan the shack until my eyes land on a post-it note. Slowly pocketing the knife, I pick up the note, reading it in the faint strands of sunlight that filter through our dirty and cracked window. Hey Kens, I’m off to Tricia’s to finish up our french project, totally forgot it was due today! Love you, Karen. I finally let my muscles relax, she hadn’t used our secret phrase, she was okay. After a nasty incident involving one of Mom’s exes and former drug dealers, Karen and I had settled on hugs and kisses. If either of us were to use those words, regardless of the context or form, it meant that we were in deep shit and needed help.   
Because of this stupid fucking life I lead, I have to be doubly careful about Karen and make sure that whatever kills me doesn’t extend to her. It’s easier now that Dad’s dead, it takes care of the most immediate threat to her well-being, both physically and mentally. The bastard would pick on her non-stop, forcing me to intercept him with physical force. I shake my head to clear it, hand automatically touching my neck as though it remembers the calloused fingers that used to close around my throat.   
But that’s over. It’s over, and now it’s time for work. I just start moving, feet taking the familiar path out the door and over to mainstreet. At six a.m. the town’s barely awake. Some commuters shuffle down the sidewalk, looking more like zombies in suits than the prosperous youth of our generation. I stifle a yawn, only half paying attention as I near my workplace. It really is too fucking early. Maybe Mr. Kim’ll let me grab some coffee before my shift, I’m sure Tweak’s will be open.  
“Kenny! Hey, asshole-!” A weight slams into my back, knocking me forward a few steps in surprise.  
“What the fuck?” I turn angrily, feet shifting into a wider stance, expecting a fight. “Who the-?”  
“Are you deaf? It took me, like, five tries to get your attention.” Craig stands behind me, arms crossed and chin tilted challengingly as he stares at me with a decidedly unimpressed look on his sharp face.   
“What the fuck do you want?” I can feel a growl forming on my lips, morning irritation getting the best of me. Craig tilts his head, eyebrow arching up at my tone and continues to stare me down with narrowed eyes. Jesus Christ, didn’t know I was in the presence of the fucking Queen.   
Craig visibly bristles, shoulders tensing as he draws himself up to his full height. Shit, guess I said that last bit out loud.   
“I thought you might like to know that your sister is staying the night again,” His intense gaze is making me uncomfortable, it’s like the glare of a pissed-off mom.  
“I… I just,” I shift my weight, bringing a hand up to scratch at the back of my head. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”  
Craig softens a bit, shoulders rounding once more as he loses some of the rigidity that had strung his spine. “it’s fine.”  
“Just early, you know?” I offer a half-smile, feeling a flutter of relief as he returns it.   
“Are you trying to tell me you’re not a morning person, McCormick?”   
“Yeah, I’ll leave the worms for the early-birds.” I wince, that was so stupid, but Craig laughs so I let it go, picking up my easy walking pace again.  
“I’d sleep all day if I could,” Craig falls into step beside me, hands tucked into the pockets of his ripped jeans. “It’s a miracle I’m passing any of my morning classes.”  
“As always, the perfect example of a stellar student.” I grin at him, letting my arm bump against his as we walk.  
“Shut the fuck up, McCormick.” Craig’s ears are red, just the tips but holy shit it’s adorable. “Like you were any better.”  
“How dare you, sir!” I clap a hand to my chest in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I was a paragon among my peers.”  
“Yeah, maybe for finding new ways to get detention.” Craig snorts, smiling at me softly. I feel like a kid again, trapped between butterflies and nerve-wracking anxiety. But somehow, I’m still completely comfortable, naturally slipping into the teasing back and forth with him. Craig’s in a long-sleeve black shirt today, the material clinging to his arms and outlining the muscles he’s gotten from baseball. My eyes slip down his body, drinking in the details. God, he’s got a really nice ass too. “Kenny?”  
I look up, realizing I’ve missed what Craig said while I was blatantly checking him out. He’s still smiling, eyebrows quirked in amusement and I know I’ve been caught.  
“Can you blame me?” I shift closer, both of us coming to a stop. “You’re incredibly hot, I’d love to sink my teeth into you.”  
Craig’s entire face flares red, blood rushing to his cheeks as I laugh quietly. He shifts, decidedly unsure of how he should react to my comment. I take another step closer, invading his space until I can feel his heat against me. Craig’s breathing grows shallower, tongue darting out to wet his lips as I press into him.   
“Kenny…” Oh, fuck yes. His lashes flutter as his eyes dilate, the piercing blue drowning in the black of his pupils. “Kenny, I-”  
“Get a fucking room you God-damned whores!” I snap my head around, eyes landing on a disgruntled commuter. He pushes past us, still muttering about exhibitionists and gays.   
“Fuck you, man!” Craig calls after him, face scrunching into a scowl and holding up his middle finger. I have to laugh at how pissed he is, immediately reverting to the same Craig I’ve known since middle school. “The fuck are you laughing at?” Craig turns his glare on me, but at this point it holds no true venom.  
“I was just thinking, you’re really fucking cute.”   
Craig splutters in response, cheeks regaining their deep flush as he struggles to respond. The town is beginning to come alive around us and I pull my phone from my pocket to check the time.  
“Oh, fuck!” I snap it closed, it’s fucking 7:30! “Shit-! I gotta go, I’m so late!” I take off without waiting for an answer, long legs breaking into a sprint. “I’ll see you later!” I call over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of Craig’s amused face as he holds one hand up in a wave.


End file.
